Cincinnatus
by Die Schildkroten
Summary: A new threat to Hyrule challenges Link's loyalty to the kingdom. Link x Midna, sequal to Moments. Some spoilers.
1. Cincinnatus

Evening!

So I'm back on the (fanfiction) saddle. Updates will be less frequent on this one, as my break is nearly over and soon I must go back to San Jose State. I'm a bit worried about the style- it's a lot more fun to write in than the style I was using for Moments. I just hope it's sustainable is all.

Talking on Moments, I should point out that this is a sequel. If you haven't read it you won't be missing much but it might could be a good idea to skim the bit before my first entry, where I outline how my version of reality differs from the canon ending. Beyond that I shouldn't worry much, although that may change as I figure out how direct a sequel this is- I'll keep you posted.

The first chapter doesn't really need the warning, but future chapters might be pretty heavy on the spoilers. Bear it in mind.

On with the story! As always, feedback is pretty God damned awesome.

Chapter One  
Cincinnatus

This is the story of a ranch-hand turned hero named Link, who after having many adventures and saving the world on at least two occasions went home to his birthplace of Ordon and settled down with the imp he had fallen in love with.

The summary doesn't do either Link's career or his relationship with said imp much justice, but our time together is fleeting. No book could capture the whole of the story of the hero who drove back the Twilight and put an end to the vicious reign of Ganondorf the demon king, and no book could fulfill in its pages the mangled promises of love in its infinite variations. For you, and for me, it will suffice to say that Link rode out to save the world and having achieved that goal retired.

His retirement was not a sedentary one. When in Ordon he spent his mornings herding goats. His afternoons were mostly spent fishing. From time to time he would leave the town, sometimes for several days. The townsfolk had known Link since he was an infant in his doomed mother's arms and did not ask him where he went on these occasions. Perhaps they were afraid that he would tell him. Perhaps he would have. Link had no appreciable talent for deception.

If you were to ask him how he enjoyed his life with Midna- for this was the name of the imp and his companion of many adventures- he would favor you with a pleasant smile that he did not need to practice in front of a mirror because he was, fundamentally, a good-natured and friendly individual.

Then, almost immediately, he would kill you with his sword. This was mostly because there were only three people in the world of light besides him who knew about Midna, and Link simply didn't trust any of the bastards- although he did trust them to keep their mouths closed, which meant that you must have found out through less than savory methods. Link had something to lose besides Hyrule, these days, and the knowledge of that fact made him justifiable paranoid.

Assuming that he trusted you- a purely hypothetical situation- Link would pause in his work (assuming that his work of the moment was not of a martial nature, in which case he would most certainly _not_ stop, given his profound and undying respect for his own life) and turn to you.

"I love her," he would say. And this would be true.

If you asked him about his love life the result would be basically the same as in the first scenario, except that he wouldn't smile first. For all his experience Link was still as provincial as hell, and there were some boundaries that you simply did not cross in polite conversation.

Assuming that you knew him well enough to make him loathe to end you on the spot, Link would pause in his work (except in the previously mentioned scenario, in which case he would not) and turn to you. He would narrow his eyes in a manner that conveyed, with an impressive degree of exactitude, that you had gone too far. Any thinking organism would find the way Link would narrow his eyes deeply frightening. It would remind you of the stories they sometimes told about him, and if you had seen him with a sword in his hand it would remind you of the hard glint that had been in his eyes on that occasion. He would look at you until you were on the verge of cutting and running like a terrified jackrabbit. Then, mildly, he would say "That's none of your business" and go back to what he had been doing before. The experience would leave you deeply shaken and, quite possible, newly religious.

This is not to give the impression that Link was in any way villainous, although on occasion he could be very intimidating, often without meaning to. In fact, for the most part Link was as level as a beam. On most subjects it was about as easy to make Link angry as it would be to make a wall sad, or a pumpkin recalcitrant. He had seen things most people had not dreamed of and his experiences had left him serene. Link knew that most of what went on in the world wasn't particularly important in the grand scheme of things and he knew this because once upon a time the grand scheme of things had mostly revolved around him. Only on the subject of Midna was it possible to get a rise out of him. It was the incredible fortune of the majority of the population of Hyrule that they didn't know about Midna.

It was a mistake to forget what Link was. Link was just slightly less dangerous than picking a fight with an active volcano.

On the unassuming spring morning which begins this story, Link awoke early from a fever dream to find his body laved with sweat and groaned quietly. His dreams had been ill-favored for as long as he could remember, but just lately they had taken a new and ominous turn.

"Whazzat?" muttered Midna on the mattress beside him.

"Not a thing," said Link easily, and got out of bed. No reply from Midna. He supposed she had gone back to sleep.

These past few nights he had dreamed he heard someone chanting, far away. Ancient chants. He couldn't put any meaning to the words but he could feel the meaning there, at the edge of his consciousness, like a moderately important document he had put down somewhere and promptly forgotten about. Shaking his head, he walked over to the pot and splashed some cold water on his face. He shrugged on a loose tunic and sat on a stool to get his boots on, taking the opportunity as he did so to glance appreciatively over the curves of Midna's body. For the hundredth time he admonished himself to be less lecherous. Gently he whisked the sheet up to her chin; Midna grumbled obstinately in her sleep and he fell in love with her all over again.

He rose to his newly booted feet and headed for the door. If Hanch was awake Link thought he might hit him up for a few Cucco eggs for his breakfast. Link got his sword down from the wall and shouldered the door open without looking at it as he fussed with the buckle.

It was a cold spring morning but the chill air wasn't doing him any harm. The dawn had a quality of embarrassment to it, which didn't make any sort of sense but Link couldn't be bothered to work it out- the whole of his attention was devoted to his sword belt. He finally got it the way he liked it and cinched it tight as he swung one-handed down on the ladder.

A fragment of the chant that had been playing through his dreams recurred to him as he climbed down and he sang out, as much to see his breath fog in the air as anything else.

By the time he reached the bottom of the ladder it was gone again. Link wondered idly if it was always the same chant, or if it varied from night to night, or if in fact it made even the slightest difference one way or the other. He turned around and looked out on the little stand that his house sat in for the first time that morning. There was an army in it.

Link blinked cautiously. The army didn't go away.

For all appearances, the Third Royal Pikemen, as elite a bunch of soldiers as could be found in the decrepit and degraded Army of Hyrule, had decided to assemble with parade-ground precision in front of his house. Every helmet was securely screwed on, every cohort was gleaming in steel and gold, ever pike looked very sharp, and by and large the Third Royal Pikemen appeared to be quite capable of holding off an impressively larger battalion by the sheer force of their stoicism alone.

"You know," Link said experimentally, "I think I could kill every single one of you _right now_ and still have time for my breakfast."

"Stand down, Link," said a high cold voice, and a knot of soldiery parted to reveal someone who was certainly not a soldier. The steel breastplate and the sword certainly looked the part, but the pale pink ball gown was simply out of place in a military setting.

It was Princess Zelda.

. . .


	2. Hannibal

Thank you all for your feedback!

On with the story.

Chapter Two  
Hannibal

This is a story about a ranch-hand turned hero named Link, who after having many adventures and saving the world on at least two occasions returned to the home of his youth and settled down with the imp he had fallen in love with, until the full stop at the end of the line of kings stopped by his house in Ordon along with fifty men at arms and basically smashed _that_ one straight to hell.

There are other players in the story, of course. Some of them are major characters and some of them are spear-carriers and walk-ons and some of them never appear on stage at all- their presence can only be intuited from the actions of the ones that do, like black holes you can only detect by watching the stars around them. They do, however, share one thing in common: every damned one of them thinks the show is about them.

They're wrong, of course. The show is about Link and always has been if you've been reading the script. Everybody else is just there for stage dressing.

But some of them are closer to important than you might think.

"Princess," acknowledged Link. He did not draw his sword, but it took a surprising amount of effort.

"Link," said Zelda, with the slightest nod of respect. "I apologize for the intrusion."

"If you need a favor," said Link thoughtfully, "then showing up in front of my house with a fifty-man escort might just possibly be the worst way to ask me."

Zelda almost smiled. "And should I ever need a favor of you, Link, I will keep that in mind. When I need you to perform a service to your country, however, I will ask you in whatever way I see fit, because-"

"Hello, Twilight Princess," said Midna, her breath hot on the back of Zelda's neck. "Am I too close to your highness for comfort? Well, I'm sorry about that, but you should have taken the necessary precautions! Your soldiers can't see me. I think I could snap your neck before _they_ even knew I was there, don't you? Eee hee hee!"

The princess did not blink- she was as stoic as a Goron, although not nearly as heavy. "I've kept your secrets for a long time, Link. It would sadden me if this were the day that the truth found you out."

Link shrugged. "That's a better threat than your toy army is, but only just. Even if everyone turned against me I'd still have the city in the sky. You're going to find that I have no switches to stand on to make me do the things you want me to do, princess."

The army grumbled, and stamped their feet, and rattled their weapons. Neither Link nor Zelda nor Midna paid them the slightest attention.

"Ooh, that didn't go over well, did it?" the imp whispered lyrically in Zelda's ear. "I don't think you're doing a very good job of being persuasive."

Zelda narrowed her eyes. It wasn't intimidating on her as it would have been on Link, but it was close. When Zelda narrowed her eyes you remembered that she had enough sheer administrative power at her disposal to have practically anyone in the kingdom executed on a whim with no consequences to herself or her regime. When she narrowed her eyes you remembered who had the army (her) and who did not have the army (you) and where that put you in relation to her (in a very poor position to argue).

"If you are unwilling to discuss this, Link," she said harshly, "then for the good of the kingdom I _will_ have you taken into custody. You're a savvy fighter, but even with your formidable skills you are no match for the forces of the crown. The good of the kingdom is more important to me than your-"

"To hell with the kingdom," Link returned savagely, "and to hell with you. If you're going to stand between me and Hanch all morning I'm going to make myself some damned toast. If you want to talk, you come up and talk. I don't negotiate with armies."

He whirled around and started up the ladder. Nobody made any move to stop him.

Inside his house, Link moved with muscular assurance and short, ferocious motions. He fetched a skillet, got a pat of butter from his pantry in the basement, and tossed them both on to the grill over his kitchen fire. He took his cleaver and was slicing a loaf of Ordon wheat when Midna floated through the door and flickered into visibility.

"What do you think this is all about?" she asked. Link laid a thick slice of the crusty bread down on the sizzling butter in the skillet.

Midna frowned at his back. "Focus, Link. Zelda has to want something."

"I'm not thinking about that just now," said Link. "I'm thinking about toast." The imp floated in the air behind him, slightly aghast.

"You don't think that maybe you're concerned about the wrong things?" Midna asked. "The undisputed ruler of this kingdom is down there with a small army and she wants you to do something for her. Zelda could make our life very complicated. For starters she could burn down your house."

Link shrugged. "I'm more worried about the toast burning than the house. I always burn toast, it's like a curse. Besides, if she has her soldiers set fire to my house I'll just kill them all and steal away into the night, never to be seen again."

Midna blinked. "I'm not sure I believe you could do that."

"But there's a sliver of doubt. You two aren't all that different in a few key ways, Midna. Trust me. Zelda has that sliver too. That's why I'm more worried about the toast."

He lifted the edge of the bread with his knife, frowned at the color, and let it flop back down into the butter like a beached gillfish. At that moment, the door opened behind him.

"Hello, princess," said Link, without turning around. "How did you manage the ladder in that dress?"

Zelda closed the door wordlessly. "I did not need to be openly defied in front of my troops, Link. This is the worst time imaginable for dissension within the ranks."

"Should've left them in Castle Town, then. I would have been more inclined to be hospitable if you'd come alone."

"I like the house."

"It's no Hyrule Castle. But I like it here. It's good to have someplace to go back to."

"Ask her what she's here for," yawned Midna. "Watching you two children flirt is simply sickening. I won't be held accountable for my actions if you keep it up."

Zelda shot her a disapproving glance. Midna smiled toothily. "Besides, it's not going to get you anywhere, Twilight Princess. Link hasn't a romantic bone in his body."

"I've got several," growled Link. "But that's not important now. Zelda, why are you here?"

Zelda arched an eyebrow and regarded Link in silence for several moments. "To ask a favor," she admitted at last. "I've sent my troops to secure the bridge for the moment. I won't make any more threats. Hear me out- that's all I ask of you."

Link nodded and said nothing.

Zelda scowled. "Then I will cut to the heart of the matter. Based on certain indicators and reports, my cabinet is predicting a full-scale bulbin invasion inside the next three weeks."

That got Link's attention. "Certain indicators and reports?"

"Yes," said Zelda, and waited.

"Could you tell me how-"

"No," said Zelda. "It will suffice for you to understand that my intelligence apparatus is first-rate. The bulbins _are_ coming. They will be led by a warlord I am sure you know of."

"Some days," said Link slowly, "I think I don't know him at all." There was a pause.

"Full-scale? What does that mean?"

"Possibly several hundred bulbin irregulars. At least a hundred boar riders. Beyond that you know as much as I do."

"Conscript Barnes of Kakariko," said Link. "That's your first step. The bulbins have used bombs before to good effect and they'll use them again, especially if they're still training kargoroks- they'll use them as bombers. You'll need Barnes and you'll need his laboratory. If he complains too much offer him a title, he'll like that- make him Grand Marshal of Kakariko or something. You've stationed an army at the foot of the desert, in Lake Hylia?"

"Of course."

"Then get them _out_ of there, Princess, and get it into your head that you're not dealing with some mindless rabble. A direct attack from the desert is suicide and he'll know it. It's too much to hope for. He'll sweep north and come down from the mountains and you will never predict where he's going to hit first. Your armies need to be at the center, camped outside of Hyrule Castle where they can react as soon as you know where he is and strike a forced march to meet him. I won't be coming along. Advice is the most you'll get from me, but it's good advice, and-"

Zelda was laughing with more than a hint of scorn. Link scowled. "I don't see what's so-"

"You thought," said Zelda, "You thought I wanted you to be my general. Get _this_ into your head, Link: I would never offer you a command. You're a knight errant. You'd be out of place at the head of an army, even if Ralis would stand for it, which he wouldn't."

Link paused and re-evaluated the situation. "How is Ralis?" he asked cautiously.

"Bitter," said Zelda, "but he's thrown in with us against the bulbins, which is more than you've done for me so far today."

"If you don't want me to lead the defense-" began Link, lost.

Zelda laughed again, a clear brittle sound. "I don't want you to lead the defense. I don't want you to lead anything. What I need you to do is the very thing you're best at."

Link closed his eyes.

"I need you to kill the warlord."

"I see," said Link, but Zelda wasn't done.

"None of my men are going to bring him down, realistically. I don't intend for any Zora to get close enough to even try. This needs to be a Hylian victory. And if he survives the battle he'll be back in three years with a bigger force. And three years after that with one that's bigger than that. I'm no fool, Link, and I know the limitations of my troops as well as you do. We can't kill him. You're going to have to do it yourself."

"I can't kill him," said Link.

"If this is sentimentality it's misplaced and we both know it."

"Sentimentality?" snapped Link. "Hell, this is pragmatism. I can't kill him. He's the size of a mountain and he heals faster than a Chu. I fought him to a standstill four times before he went back to the desert and when he left he was, if anything, healthier than he was the first time I fought him. Sentimentality doesn't enter into it. You're asking me to do what can't be done." Zelda regarded him sorrowfully.

"Are you through?" she asked. Link nodded.

"Good," she said. "It's sentiment and we both know it- let me finish, please. You fought him four times and beat him four times. He's only still alive because you keep letting him walk away. You've fought with giants, Link, and don't think that I don't know what I'm talking about. Ganondorf died with your sword straight through his chest. You can fight the warlord and you can kill him, and you're going to do it- do you know why?"

"No," ground out Link. "I don't."

Zelda laughed. "You really don't have much respect for me, do you? That's why you're going to kill him, Link. You don't think I can win without you- and you are entirely correct. I don't think you would mind that much if I didn't come back from this battle. I think you're exactly cold enough not to mind that at all. But there's people you care about who are going to be murdered or worse when the boars have done with trampling my body into the mud. I can't protect them, Link," she said, walking to the door.

"Only you can do that."

Zelda gave Midna a cordial nod which the imp met with a glare of sheer freezing hatred and left the house without another word spoken. Link stood staring at the place where she had been, glassy-eyed with shock.

"You can't be seriously considering this," said Midna as soon as she was gone. "There has to be another way. I'm not saying I _like_ the warlord, but after this long- ugh, what's that smell?" Link blinked and glanced over to the fire. He swore.

"It's my toast," he said.

Midna hovered anxiously over his shoulder. "Eugh. It's burned."

"That's what it's there for," snapped Link, and threw the remains of his breakfast out the window.


	3. Lee

Chapter Three  
Lee

"So, here's the problem as I see it," said Midna. "The warlord is coming."

"So they tell me," said Link. "Will you hold this bow?" 

"Sure," said Midna, and took it. Link bent down into the chest and came out carrying a rough dodongo-skin bag in each hand. Frowning around the room, he finally set them down at his feet and went back down for more. Midna leaned the bow against the wall and continued.

"And Zelda," she said, "wants you to kill him."

"She does," said Link. "She was very clear on that. I don't think there's any way around it, semantically- there's the bastard." He drew the Gale Boomerang carefully from the chest and tucked it into a saddlebag. It was a poor fit, so he took it back out again and tried it again at a few different angles before giving it up as a bad job and wedging it in as best he could.

Midna stretched contemplatively and fell down on her back. "_Can_ you kill him?" she asked from the floor. "I mean, is it possible?"

"What a question," Link said as he checked his quiver. "of course I can. Probably. Well, maybe. No, almost definitely. Assuming even conditions and no avenues of escape. The problem with the warlord is that while he is entirely willing to fight to the death, he's never showed much enthusiasm for fighting to his own. Then there's his army to consider." Half a hundred arrows- he'd gone too long without restocking. Then again he wouldn't likely be called on to demonstrate his exceptional archery when the goblins came pouring across the border.

Midna pouted. "You're worried about bulbins? Please. They're beneath your attention."

"Do you think I should take my armor?" wondered Link. "No, I think not. Only slow me down, really. No, bulbins don't worry me. Several hundred bulbins, on the other hand, are liable to make me sit up and take notice, and you know how I hate that. If they were to get me surrounded-"

"Then you wouldn't be you?"

"Well. Yes," admitted Link modestly. "But it bears consideration. And Zelda expected maybe a hundred boar riders. Boar riders scare the hell out of me, in perfect candor. Even after you've dispensed with the riders you still have a lot of meat in motion. Hard to avoid that sort of a rush on horseback, and if I'm on foot when I find the warlord, and he's on that boar of his, he _will_ kill me. Where the hell is that other bomb bag?"

"You packed it already," said Midna.

"Oh, that's so," said Link. "I had forgotten. The thing is, Midna, I always planned to die in bed, if the opportunity presented itself."

"This bed you speak of-" asked Midna coyly "-would I be in it at the time?"

"Ideally. Of course if my luck is in you won't be sleeping. I don't want the last thing I ever hear in this world to be your horrific snoring."

"Clam up, wolf boy," said Midna easily. There was a companionable silence as Link went on filling his saddlebags with the instruments of death.

"But if you can get to him," pressed the imp, propping herself up on one elbow, "you can kill him, right? I'm not exactly thrilled on the idea but if I had to pick one of you it wouldn't be him."

"Probably," said Link, pulled his clawshots out of the chest. "I suppose I should bring these along. Whenever I leave them home I end up regretting it." 

"But you don't want to do it," said Midna. "You don't want to kill him, do you. Zelda was right." Link paused in the act of putting the clawshots away.

"No," he said. "I don't want to kill him. He saved your life, you know, and I owe him for that. If he hadn't told me that Ralis got to him first I would never have gotten there in time to save you. I'm not an honorable man, but there's enough honor left in me not to want the warlord dead. I haven't paid off my debt to him yet and I intend to have done with it before I'm dead." Midna was sitting straight up and regarding him intently.

"That's not all there is to it," she accused. "You think I don't know when you're holding back? I can read you like an open book. Tell me. Why else don't you want to?"

Link sighed. "Midna, how many people do you know who could stand in my way?"

The imp blinked. "How do you mean?"

"I mean to say," Link went on, "how many people do we know who can fight at least well enough to slow me down? Because it isn't many. Ashei, maybe. Rusl might be able to hold me back for ten seconds. Colin might be a match for me in about ten years, if he lives that long. Nobody else would stand a chance. It's got to be the warlord."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Midna.

"Midna," said Link, "I'm the most powerful warrior in all Hyrule now that Ganondorf's dead. If Zelda set her army against me they'd probably take me down- probably. Even then I'd decimate them before they had time to stop me. Doesn't that scare you as much as it scares me? I don't want the warlord dead because he's the only one left who could stop me. I don't think any reasonable person could find the prospect of a world where nobody was left to stand in my way anything less than terrifying."

There was a stunned silence.

"So if I understand you," said Midna carefully, "you don't want to kill him because you want him to be there to kill _you_ if you need to be killed."

"For the good of Hyrule," said Link, "yes. I'll admit that it doesn't sound quite so reasonable when you put it like that."

"Link, that may be the most impossibly noble thing I've ever heard you say."

"Thank you," said Link, and looked obscurely flattered.

Midna slapped him lightly on the face. "It is also _completely insane_," she growled. "because nobody's ever going to need you dead. You're kind and valiant and so sickeningly _good_ that you make Renado look like a rapist, and if that ever changes the warlord isn't going to be able to kill you because _I will kill you first_. Listen to yourself!"

Link gave her his sad smile, which was very sad indeed. When Link was in low spirits, nobody was sadder than Link, and nobody was happier than Link when he was in a good mood or angrier than Link when he had a damned good reason to be upset. You got used to it or you avoided him as much as possible. That sort of range was hard to deal with on a day-to-day basis. It was a lucky thing that Link was usually so calm, because otherwise it would be terrifying to be around him.

"I hope so, Midna," said Link. "I really do hope so. Because I believe that I'm going to have to kill him."

Midna scowled in confusion. "But you said-"

"I said a lot of things." 

Link lifted the Master Sword from its place on the wall and carried it reverently to the space on the floor where he had been piling his gear for the past quarter of an hour. He laid it down and went to get his shield.

"But Zelda is right," he went on over his shoulder. "I hate it, but I can't argue with it. She's perfectly right. If it's an invasion he can't be allowed to go on living- that's logic. You can't fight it. All you can do is what you must."

He slung his battered army shield over his shoulder and picked up a saddlebag. "Anyways, you can't have it only one way. I want to leave him alive so that he'll come for me if he has to, because he's the only one who could do it. But that goes both ways. Right now I'm the only one who can stop _him_. So that's what I'm going to do." He tucked the bag under his elbow and hoisted up another one. "If I did any less I would be betraying the both of us, and I'm tired of it. Back when it was only the two of us I would have killed him in a heartbeat if he had ever given me an opening. This will be no different. I don't want to kill him, Midna, but I'm going to. If I can."

Link picked up his sword. "And the goddesses protect Hyrule from whichever one of us is left standing when the dust clears. Shall we split?" 

"Any other options?" asked Midna, but Link was already out the door.


	4. Launcelot

Hey. Let me just take this opportunity to thank all of you for your reviews and readership; you all are my kind of people, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.

I'll take this opportunity to clear up a few things that have been popping up in the review. Poppycock, I'm not actually still writing these- the series is complete up to chapter 6 ('Cassius'.) As it happens, it's being beta-read on another, much smaller forum. The reason I've been able to keep up with the daily updates is, quite simply, that the chapters are already written. I'm just cutting and pasting, with occasional last-minute edits.

That said, I did write the first, um, 13 chapters of Moments/Cincinnatus in 16 days. But I have a _lot _of time on my hands. I'll probably be able to keep up the one-a-day thing up to chapter 7 of Cincinnatus, which ends the story, but after that updates to the third arc are going to be a lot more sporadic since by tomorrow I'm going to be back in San Jose.

KRP, I'm going to be skirting around a lot of your questions so as not to give anything away, but I _will _tell you that the chapter titles are related to the story. I'm an amateur history buff, and some of the connections don't make much sense outside of my head, but I like to think at least some of them can be interpreted.

Cincinnatus was a semi-legendary Roman statesman who took over as dictator for a short time to deal with an urgent crisis. After dispensing with the emergency he surrendered his power and went back to his farm. In my story, Link is our Cincinnatus- reluctant to assume an active role, but willing to exercise his considerable power if the situation warrants it.

I leave you to figure out the remaining titles. I will tell you that Lee, chapter 3's namesake, is Robert E. Lee.

Right: on to the story.

Chapter Four  
Launcelot

The first rule of coalition warfare is that there's going to be a certain amount of mutual awkwardness.

It's unavoidable. Take a quarter of a million American GI's and a quarter of a million Soviet farmboys with Russian rifles and drop them in Germany in 1945. Inevitably, when they meet up, feet are going to be shuffled and the backs of necks are going to be rubbed and finding a source of conversation is going to be difficult. The potential for embarrassment is doubled when your two armies are made up of soldiers from two distinct species, one of which has ears you could use to open cans on and the other of which would be far more comfortable fighting from a nice lakebed somewhere.

The second rule of coalition warfare is that Ralis is going to be very deeply unhappy about the whole thing. This might seem needlessly specific, but it's undeniable true and it needs to be said: if the Zora prince is involved, he's not going to be particularly thrilled.

The third rule of coalition warfare is probably about troop movements, or communication problems in a battlefield situation. Something like that, anyways. It's probably not important.

Link made the muster outside of Castle Town shortly before noon and got past the sentries with a minimum of difficulty. Some of the more entrepreneurial city dwellers had snuck in and were hawking local delicacies to the soldiers. After finding a hostler to take care of Epona Link negotiated successfully for a skewer of sizzling but unidentifiable chunks of meat and wandered off to look for Zelda.

"More soldiers than I expected," said Midna, drifting at his feet as a shadow.

"True," said Link, keeping his voice down. "The bulbins will be outnumbered, not that that's going to make much of a difference. It's been ages since there's been any sort of unified military threat to Hyrule- the last time the army was actually required nobody here had even been born. The casualties are going to be enormous. Most of these boys are going to die, I think."

"Where's the Zora troops?" asked the imp. "All I see is Hylians." Link thought for a moment.

"We're near the canal that feeds into Castle Town," he finally said. "If I had to make a guess I'd say that they're holed up in there- you know how Zoras hate overland travel. They'll keep their heads down until the last minute." He tore off a hunk of what might certainly have been beef and chewed contemplatively. "I don't trust them," he added, swallowing. "but nobody asked me."

"Why not?"

"Ralis doesn't have enough to lose."

"Is that Barnes?"

It was. The potbellied bombmaker was hurrying through the melee of soldiers towards Link. He didn't look to be in a particularly good mood.

"Link!" he said, nearly tripping over a pike and stumbling to a halt three inches away from the hero's face. "What's the big idea, huh? Zelda says this was your idea! I have a _business_ to run!"

"Barnes!" said Link happily. "I am very pleased that you were able to find me, because I've been looking for you. You are the man I want."

"Er, what?" said Barnes, badly derailed. He rallied magnificently. " I tell you I'm not going to stand for being bullied! You have to tell Zelda you've changed your mind. At the very least we could work something out monetarily!"

Link clapped a hand on Barnes' shoulder. "You'll be drawing combat pay, Barnes. Tomorrow I will ride out against the unstoppable armies of the bulbin warlord, and _you_, Barnes, noblest among men, will ride out alongside me. Together we will fight our way through the green-skinned waves, enduring a thousand petty discomforts and mortal perils, and together we will slay the warlord, the most terrible warrior in all of Hyrule, and ride back with his head as our trophy."

"Well, hey," said Barnes, "I ought to get back to my laboratory, don't you think? But listen, you drop in any time, I'll give you the old friend's discount. Put her there, buddy." Barnes left fast enough to raise a roostertail of dust behind him. Link smiled and kept walking.

"That was cruel," said Midna, after a moment.

"Well," said Link reflectively, "I've never particularly liked the man. He made Beth cry once. No, that's just an excuse- really, he just rubs me the wrong way. But if it helps, think of it as revenge."

"You did burn down his house that one time," the imp pointed out. Link shook his head.

"Doesn't count," he said, "I didn't know it was his house. Ah, here we are."

Zelda had requisitioned some dead king's campaigning tent from the Castle's extensive basements- a gaudy silk mesa in white and gold, with the inverted Triforce sewn in red above the canopy door. There was no guard. Perhaps, thought Link, the princess overestimated her own popularity. Or perhaps he underestimated it. It was difficult to say.

Link pushed the curtain aside and went in.

Zelda enjoyed the trappings of monarchy; the inside of the tent was more opulent than his house in Ordon. The servants had laid a thick carpet right over the damp grass, and hauled an oak table down from the Castle. The maps strewn across it were of the highest quality, made by tame palace cartographers. The hands that rested on them were Zelda's.

There were three people in the tent with him. One of them was the princess, and one of them he didn't have time to notice because the third, sitting on a carved stool on which some practical servant had surreptitiously placed a pillow and glaring at him with brilliant green eyes, was Ralis.

"So," said the prince, "you've come over to our side."

Link bit off another piece of meat from his skewer and took his time chewing it. Ralis looked more murderous with every passing moment, which Link didn't necessarily mind. It gave him time to get his bearings.

He glanced down at the maps on the table. They looked accurate, from what little time he had spent in the area. They were kind to his eyes. The little figures on them, he decided, were pewter soldiers- representing the 1st Pikemen, the 4th Cavalry, the 2nd Macemen. They were detailed enough that whoever was responsible for them could probably have gone on holiday with his earnings. If he knew what he was making them for he would probably be off vacationing under a rock somewhere.

Nobody had bothered making exquisite little figurines of the warlord's forces- pebbles squatted on the parchment battlefield to show how the war might play out. It said something about hubris and probably it said something about futility, but Link couldn't be bothered to grind them down for meaning.

He looked over at the third person in the room and saw that it was a soldier. Higher echelon, too- nice breastplate, regimental sword instead of the more usual spear. Not a guard, then. He was officer material down to his carefully trimmed moustache. Link raised his eyebrows politely and the soldier nodded.

Finally he swallowed- this time it had tasted more like lamb- and looked back at Ralis, who looked ready to lunge across the table and bite him on the neck. "I didn't know I left it," he said mildly.

"You _killed_ three of my soldiers," snarled the Zora, "I think that killing my men might put us at odds."

"Ah," said Link, raising a finger, "but you _also_ thought you could move against my interests without suffering the consequences. So you've been wrong before." Zelda put a hand over her eyes.

The adolescent prince thumped one fist against the table. "If you're saying that killing monsters is against _your_ interests, then-"

"Ralis," said Zelda quietly, "Regardless of your past dealings, Link is here to remove a problem that neither of us can solve. Link, stop antagonizing the prince. This is a council of war and we have no time for bickering."

Link shrugged his shoulders. "The fact that the prince remains seated and not, say, on the ground and bleeding demonstrates my commitment to your noble cause. Tell me where we are."

Zelda gestured for Link to take a seat and explained the strategy.

It wasn't a particularly complicated one, and with Ralis fuming silently on his padded stool it took less than ten minutes for Link to get the general thrust of it. There were some creative flourishes- a flanking maneuver by advance troops already in place, a prospective plan to lure the bulbin army to a venue where they could be outmaneuvered and bombarded with Barnes' finest. For the most part, however, it was depressingly conventional: a forced march to engage the warlord's troops, followed by a head-on assault.

"Well and good," said Link when Zelda had finished. "You'll lose half of your army if you're lucky and two-thirds if the warlord has his game face on- assuming you win. Maybe you could do a better job training the next batch."

"If you'd like to make any suggestions, Link-" Zelda began testily, but Link cut her off.

"I'm no general," he said, "as you yourself so eloquently pointed out in Ordon. No suggestions. I'm simply stating a fact. Where do I fit into this?"

Zelda gestured at the pebbles that represented the bulbin army. "Specific tactics are up to you. We can't know how his forces will be placed. My strategists predict a fair amount of disorganization, but it's impossible to determine the state of the warlord's mind at this point. You've fought with him. In your estimation is he more likely to be with the front ranks or in the rear?"

"Neither," said Link. "He's no coward but he knows what happens to the first wave. He'll be close behind the vanguard, leading the bulk of his forces."

He stopped, but Zelda seemed to be expecting something more of him. "He'll be fully armored," he added, "and he'll have an escort of boar riders, but unless the breeding stock has improved they'll have a job of it keeping up. As I see it, my best shot is to wait for your forces to engage his and then punch through the front line. He'll be expecting me."

Zelda nodded. "This is Commander Barbarossa," she said, nodding to the officer. "He will be leading your own escort."

Link narrowed his eyes. "I did not request a military escort."

"Nevertheless," said Zelda, "the Fourth Skirmishers will accompany you. You're no good to us if you're taken out before you can kill the warlord."

"Then the Fourth Skirmishers are dead men walking," said Link harshly. Zelda winced.

He turned to Barbarossa. "Commander, you and your men will be between me and the bulbin elite infantry, who will be carrying spiked iron maces. These maces will be heavy enough that if you should happen to drop a bulbin and he should happen to drop his weapon it will break every bone in your foot through your armor. I will not be helping you. I will be on horseback, moving as quickly as possible. Assuming you break the front lines you should be just in time to meet the warlord's boar riders, who won't be carrying maces because when you're on top of a feral pig that weighs fifty stone you don't really need any other weapons. In short, Commander, you and the men you bring with you are going to _die_ if you try to follow me into combat. Your plan is insane."

Barbarossa nodded mildly. "I understand the risks, sir. I fought bulbin raiding parties when I was still in the junior grades. I know how they operate."

"You're throwing away your lives," said Link.

"We're taking the risks you would be taking," corrected Barbarossa, "if you were going unaccompanied. We're _risking_ our lives because in the current situation yours is more important." Link was shaking his head.

"Your men won't have more than two or three years in the army, will they?" he asked. Barbarossa hesitated and then shook his head.

"That's what I thought," said Link. "I haven't been in the business too much longer than that, but rarely in that time has a day gone by when I haven't been fighting for my life. I'm extraordinarily difficult to kill, partially because I'm very, very good at what I do and partially because I belong to a club that only ever had three members. One of them is dead, but only because of me, and one of them is Zelda. Have no fear for me, Commander."

"I understand all that, sir," said Barbarossa. "But I also understand that you've never been in the sort of situation you're going to be seeing tomorrow. There are going to be more bulbins than you have ever seen in one place and the front lines are going to be thick enough that you will be surrounded for perhaps thirty seconds before you break through."

"You've never been in a situation like that either," accused Link.

"No," admitted Barbarossa. "But I know my military history, and what it tells me is that in those circumstances it is not possible that one man should prevail. You say you don't need us. I say that Hyrule does."

Link regarded Barbarossa for a long unblinking moment. Barbarossa looked right back at him. Neither of them noticed the sudden tumult outside but both of them started when a courier in Hylian livery burst into the tent, wild-eyed and panting.

"The warlord-" he gasped "has been sighted- fields- nor' east of Hylia-"

"My compliments to General Isenbruch and he's to rally the troops," snapped Zelda, rising to her feet and strapping on her rapier. "We'll do this according to the plans laid down. Ralis, come with me."

Adjutants and aides rushed into the tent, gathering charts and barking orders at each other that would or would not make it out of the room. Barbarossa cast about wildly for his bearings and when he looked back the Ordonian knight was staring at him with an expression on his face that sent chills down the Commander's spine.

"Take me to your men," said Link. "If they're going to be dying for me then at least we'll ride out together. I don't approve and I won't have responsibility but I can't say I'm not glad to know you, Barbarossa. You have your sword? Good. Let's go and slay a giant."

Outside, the sun was perfectly positioned at the apex of the heavens, glaring blindingly down at the earth from a cloudless sky. Beneath the perfect order of the firmament there was chaos sufficient to make the untutored observer think the battle already begun as the Army of Hyrule prepared itself for war for the first time in over fifty years.


	5. Napoleon Part I

I'll never forgive you, you know.

Here's Chapter Five, ahead of schedule but not exactly as planned- I've broken it into two parts, the second of which will be up a little later as soon as I'm done, well, writing it. You know how I love a good cliffhanger.

Read!  
. . .

Chapter Five  
Napoleon  
part i

There were more of them than anybody, even the most pessimistic among the faithful, could ever have expected.

The warlord's troops were as numerous as the stars in the sky- a screaming, chattering multitude that came boiling over the hills and barreled straight for the Alliance's forces behind a storm of fire arrows. Caught by surprise the Hylian vanguard could only unsling their shields and set their long pikes against the charge. Behind them, Barnes and the Royal Bombards frantically scurried to and fro from the supply carts, desperately preparing their untested cannons for a battle that had started earlier than it had been supposed to. Between, Link sat astride his horse, horror-stricken, with the Fourth Skirmishers in a phalanx about him.

"Oh, Goddesses," he whispered. "Oh, Goddesses."

Then, aloud "I love you, Midna." Barbarossa glanced up at him, almost asked the question, decided not to. Everybody dealt with it their own way.

Instead he asked "Orders, sir?"

The bulbins were thirty yards away from the Hylian lines and closing. Link couldn't tear his eyes off them.

"We'll do it like we planned," he said, slowly. "Rally your men, Commander. Let's get this over with." Twenty yards.

Barbarossa drew his sword. "Right, boys!" he hollered, "give them the sharp end and I'll see you on the other side! For Hyrule!"

"For Hyrule!" came back the cry. Some of them jeered, some of them swore, some of them might have been crying. Everybody dealt with it their own way. Ten yards.

Five.

Contact.

The bulbin army came up against the Hylian lines and the din of battle suddenly trebled as green-skinned raiders impaled themselves on barbed Hylian spearheads and armored footsoldiers in Hylian livery were beaten down with iron maces and pincushioned by flaming arrows. The line was broken in half a dozen places. Link drew back his bow and let fly with a bomb arrow. Without waiting for the smoke to clear he drew back on the reins and urged Epona into the bloody fray, with the Fourth Skirmishers around and behind him. The blast of the arrow bought him perhaps five seconds. Then the bulbins were everywhere.

The bow was in his hands and he shot again and again, dropping a bulbin with every arrow. There was no time to look behind him but he heard them dying in his wake, heard their despairing cries as the maces hammered out their iron songs, a harsh staccato half-lost in the larger orchestra of war.

A shrill voice, suddenly cut off. What had his name been? Link didn't know. Somebody was screaming to his left- well, a hell of a lot of people were screaming, but this was a voice he knew. Barbarossa? No, not Barbarossa; the moustached commander was somewhere behind him, shouting orders to the last shreds of his command, keeping the bulbins off of Link's back.

The sound of an arrow, punching through armor and flesh. Barbarossa-? No. No time to think about it. Thank the goddesses that Midna is safely out of it and keep fighting. The bulbin ranks stretch out to the horizon and for a split second Link thinks that he's seen those leathery green faces before. But that's lunacy and he knows it. He's never met one of their kind who he hasn't killed except once.

An arrow and an arrow and an arrow until his scabbard is empty and he draws his sword. He's hacking down at them from his lofty seat, but it's slowing him down, there are too many of them and too few of him. A cry rings out but Link doesn't hear it, there are bulbins are fifty raiders deep on every side and it's all he can do to keep mounted. There, ahead of him- open space? Impossible, there's no such thing. He's going to be fighting forever. Link thrusts and parries, cleaves and severs and hurts. It seems impossible that he's still alive. 

Twenty feet ten feet five feet and there are no more bulbins, Link bursts out the other side with Epona wild-eyed and lathered in sweat under him. For a moment he was trembling and exultant; the war was over. Link had won.

Then he turned back and saw what the receding tide of the bulbin army had left behind: Barbarossa and eight of his men in varying states of mortal injury. Eight out of the fifty he had ridden out with. Link didn't feel like he had won anymore.

Barbarossa had taken a gash to the head and the only eye of his that you could still see under the slick of blood was fever-bright. Barbarossa was shouting something but it took a minute before he could make it out.

"Orders, sir!" he was shouting. Faithful Barbarossa, still waiting for someone to tell him what to do with four-fifths of his command lying in pieces on the field of battle. Link was sick to his heart of war.

"Retreat!" he shouted. Barbarossa snarled.

"What?"

"Retreat!" ordered Link. "There's nothing more you can do for me!"

"Never!" roared Barbarossa. Link sighted him down the edge of his blade.

"Retreat!" he cried for a third time. "Keep your damn fool head down and stay alive another day! You can't kill him, Barbarossa!"

Barbarossa glared wild-eyed at Link for a long moment and then turned to the shredded remains of his men. "Dig in!" he was crying, "we've done enough for today! Come on, boys, we've got to find cover before the boars come through!"

Link wasn't paying attention to him anymore. For him there was only one sound in the world and it was the long trembling note that the warlord's horn made when he blew it, deep as the heart of the world and so loud that he could feel it in his bones. The ground shook with the relentless pounding of armored hoofs. The warlord was coming. Link grinned and brought his sword up.

"Link, be careful," said Midna from his shadow. She sounded scared as hell. "You're tired and he'll be fresh. You're not on the advantage-"

"Never have been," said Link. "I love you, Midna. If I don't come back-"

He hesitated. "-If I don't come back you wait for me. All right? Wait for me."

The imp was on the verge of tears. "It's not too late to turn back."

Link closed his eyes. "Yes it is."

The warlord came thundering over the hill and Link urged Epona into a gallop and knew, in his heart, that one way or another the war was over.

. . .

Comments? 


	6. Napoleon Part II

Chapter Five  
Napoleon  
part ii

The boars stretched from one horizon to the other in single file. From their backs the warlord's elite cavalry nocked arrow to bow. The air was cacophonous with the guttural war cry of the bulbins. Link couldn't care less; the whole of his attention was devoted to his nemesis, fifty feet away atop his monstrous azure boar.

The warlord had seen him. The warlord had known he was coming. With a savage grunt he goaded his mount into a berserker charge even as Link came galloping towards him on horseback. At the last possible moment, the bulbin veered off; Link hacked out at him with his great sword and missed. Epona's momentum carried him fifty feet before he wheeled her about and came at the warlord again with his sword held out before him like a jouster's lance. The warlord was already on the move. 

This time, the Master Sword drove home. He felt the satisfying shock of contact move up his arm like rolling thunder, saw his opponent's breastplate flap open and come crashing down to earth as his sword sliced through the chain mail beneath. Then they were separated again. Link came about to find that the warlord wasn't stopping; he had broken through his own lines and was headed for the hills.

"Coward!" he yelled, and urged Epona into a gallop. A boar rider loomed up to bar his way; he swerved to avoid it and struck both riders to the ground with his sword in passing. Then the boar riders were behind him. The warlord was nowhere to be seen.

Link gritted his teeth and rode on. The bastard couldn't hide forever, not least from him.

The grass was trampled down, slicked to the earth by the relentless motion of a thousand feet. The landscape was low hills and mesas, littered with boar droppings. In the dying light it looked almost unimaginable sordid.

"Why would he be running?" asked Midna in a low voice. "He's never shown any fear of you before."

"He's not running," said Link grimly. "He's waiting."

"Waiting?"

"He's waiting for his moment," explained Link. "Timing is everything. He thinks there's going to be a moment where he can catch me by surprise and bring me down."

Midna was silent for a moment. "…and is there going to be?"

"No," said Link. "There isn't. But-"

And the warlord's mount came bellowing down the slope, swinging its great head from side to side, eyes burning in their deep sockets of bone. Link swore and hauled on the reins with all his might- too late. The great boar's passage knocked him from his horse and he hit the ground hard enough to feel his teeth rattling in his skull as Epona bolted.

Link pulled himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the sick jag of pain in his skull. Someone had built a bell tower in between his ears and the bastard seemed bound and determined to find out just how hard he could ring it. He was dimly aware that Midna was yelling at him- what was she saying?

"-on the boar! _He wasn't on the boar_!"

Link nodded in muddled agreement and then his eyes shot open as the full meaning of this struck him. "Oh, _shit-_" he managed.

Green bloomed in his peripheral vision.

For something his size, the warlord moved surprisingly fast.

Link caught the flat of the axe across his ribs as he turned to fight or run and went flying. He hit the ground for the second time and his vision blurred dangerously as his head bounced against the earth. He had been caught off guard, outmaneuvered- how ironic.

But Link, even half-stunned, was a better fighter than any sober man.

There was the warlord, not giving him a chance to get up, raising his axe to hew him messily in half. Link rolled at the last minute and kicked out with both feet, feeling rather than hearing the crunch as his boots hit the haft hard enough to splinter the wood. As the bulbin struggled to free his weapon Link somersaulted to his feet and it was at that moment that he realized that he was missing his sword.

He glanced desperately around and saw it upright in the earth where he had dropped it point-first ten feet away, and made it three steps before the warlord tackled him from behind, bringing him back down again. Link heaved himself up on his side and drove his elbow twice into the warlord's face hard enough to crunch bone. His grip slackened and Link pulled himself free and scrambled desperately to his weapon.

The warlord shook his head clear and vaulted to his stubby legs, yanking his rough sword from where it hung at his side. Link had retrieved his own from where he had dropped it; well and good. Then it would be settled as it always had been.

Link leapt forward, swinging the Master Sword over his head, and the warlord barely had time to bring his sword up to block it before Link was on him, hacking and stabbing too fast to counter. The bulbin blocked once, twice, three times and Link knocked his sword to the side with a sweeping blow and used the opening to kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground and Link put his boot on the warlord's sword and his sword to the warlord's throat.

"Zelda was right," he snarled. "It was sentiment. I should have ended you when I had the chance."

The warlord closed his eyes. "Then you end it now. The battle is lost."

Link drew back his sword. "Why did you come back?" he demanded. "You must have known I wouldn't countenance an invasion. What the hell made you think you could get away with it?"

"Not invasion."

The color drained from Link's face. "What did you say?" he asked.

The warlord's eyes burst open, bright and hot as coals in his pudgy face. "_Not invasion_," he snapped. "You don't hear so good, maybe? You need me write it out? _Not invasion_. Retaliation."

"Retaliation," said Link. "Retaliation for what?"

"Retaliation for Hylian attack on bulbin territory, beyond mountains," said the warlord. "Retaliation for murder of tribal leaders, women and young. I thought you know."

"I didn't." said Link.

The warlord's eyes narrowed. "I think you come anyways. If you know."

"This is wrong," said Link, lowering his sword. "This is- you weren't coming for Hyrule, you were coming to- this is wrong."

"Of course it _wrong_," retorted the bulbin, scorn in his voice. "It always have been wrong and it always will be wrong. What do you think you were fighting for?"

"Not this," Link answered hollowly. "Never this."

The warlord's voice softened. "Take care of yourself, Link. Maybe one that comes after me isn't a nice guy like I am."

Link stared at him for a long time. Then he sheathed his sword.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said decisively. "Not today and not for Zelda. Next year, come next year, and leave your army behind- then I'll kill you. When we can settle this between us, with no Zelda and no Hyrule and no old friends as hostages to my good fortune. You shouldn't have come, but there's still time. Turn back. Go home."

The warlord's eyes bulged. "You not kill me?" he asked.

"No," said Link. "I'm not."

The warlord bared his teeth. "I not turn back. Do you understand? Not today and not ever. If I turn back I'm not the strongest anymore. Do you understand what that mean?"

"No," said Link.

"It mean death if I'm lucky. It means dishonor- you know the word? Dishonor. That means when you don't have anything left to fight for. When I die I don't want a coward's death. Not for me. Not never."

"When," shouted Link at the sky, "When do I get to stop cleaning up after other people's mistakes!"

"You humans," snarled the warlord, "you don't know a damn thing. You'll spend your life cleaning up after mistakes and you'll die because of the one you not clean up. It's what you do. _You would have come anyway_."

"No," said Link. "I won't." A burst of petulance rose in his gullet. "You can't make me!"

"_Humans!_" roared the warlord. "You always think this about you! I lie here on the ground in dishonor and you pule over whether or not it right to kill an enemy!" His hand slipped behind him. "You fight like bulbin. Our way better. Kill or be killed. Death before dishonor. You fight like bulbin and don't worry about it anymore." His fingers curled around the bone hilt of his hunting knife. The warlord's eyes narrowed.

"You fight like bulbin," he said. "Strike first!" and his arm was punching through the air with a knife in it.

"_No!_" cried Midna, shedding the protection of shadow and swooping up between Link and the knife. The warlord's eyes went wide and then Link was there, knocking Midna out of the air and driving his sword deep into his enemy's heart in a single blinding motion.

The knife tumbled from Malgrim's nerveless fingers as the color leached out of his vision. "I-" he gasped. "I- have-"

And there was Midna, floating between him and the sky, one eye wide, looking like nothing in the world. Malgrim caught her up in dying eyes and held her there as his heart quieted in his chest. It didn't hurt to die. Far away Malgrim heard voices, gentle and sad and utterly alien. It sounded like they were chanting.

"I- have- always… wondered," said the warlord, and died.

Link threw his sword down and walked a few steps away. "To hell with it," he muttered.

Midna floated tentatively closer to him. "Link?" she asked.

"She lied to me," said Link.

"You've won," tried Midna. "It's over."

"She _lied_ to me," said Link insistently. "What the hell else could I have done? But it wasn't the warlord's fault."

Midna bit her lip. "But you had to," she said. "Even if it was Zelda's responsibility. You had to kill him,"

"Do you think I don't know that?" growled Link, and his voice broke on the last word. "Ah, goddesses, Midna, you're the only thing left in the world that matters to me. I swear on the Triforce, next time I'm staying home."

"Home," said Midna. "Let's go back."

"Not yet," said Link. "It's not over. There's one last thing I have to do."

He approached the warlord's body with his sword in his hand as the sun set on Hyrule. 


	7. Cassius

Here's the sixth chapter, a day late- I'm sorry about that.

The release of the seventh chapter is going to be even later, pending a massive rewrite.

Thanks for correcting me, KRP. I can't believe that got by me.

Anyways, moving on.

Chapter Six  
Cassius

Battlefields stink. It's what they're there for.

They smell, predictably, of blood soaked into earth that would be monstrously fertile this time next year, of raw meat and piss and the angry sweat of soldiers. This one also smells of the rankness of boars and the stench of spent gunpowder from Barnes' cannons. If a latrine digger and a nobleman fallen on hard times were to have a pistol duel in a burning abattoir, it would smell more or less like this one.

That's a lie, of course. The stink of a battlefield after the war has ended isn't analogous to anything you know.

The goddesses invented this smell to discourage brief mortals from waging war on one another. Like many of the things the goddesses invented, this is a good idea in principle but a hopeless one in execution. Only rarely are the people who start wars in any position to survey what's left after the tide of battle has receded.

Zelda and Ralis sat on cushioned stools in her campaigning tent, a quarter-mile away from where the last holdouts of the bulbin militia were being exterminated by the last holdouts of the Hylian army. Scented tapers burned at the entrance flap and made General Isenbruch, resplendent in his dress uniform and waxed moustaches, slightly uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. "The bulk of enemy forces are in flagrant retreat, my princess," he announced. "Of those that remain, most are phalanxed about injured personnel or animals and show every intention of fighting to the death."

He stopped and waited for orders. When Zelda smiled politely and gave no indication that orders were forthcoming, he went on.

"Approximately five hundred of the enemy dead are accounted for," he pronounced in his reedy voice. "This figure includes the majority of the boar riders, who either were not in position to or had not the inclination to retreat. Two riders broke through our lines and headed for the Hylian heartland. Anticipating your orders, I dispatched the Fifth Calvary to intercept and destroy them. They pose a logistical problem but not a military threat."

"Thank you, General," said Zelda pleasantly. "That will be all."

"Our own losses," Isenbruch went on doggedly, "approach six in ten. Several units have been rendered entirely unfit for duty, among these the Third Royal Pikemen, the Second Macemen, the Fourth Calvary-"

"That will be _all_, General," said Zelda sharply.

"-the Fourth Skirmishers, who suffered losses of nine in ten, the Royal Bombards-"

"_That will be all, General_," snapped Zelda, and chopped her hand tersely at the guards at the door. Obediently they came up behind Isenbruch and got him by the elbows. The old man never stopped talking as they dragged him away.

"-Of the survivors, eight in ten are wounded, four in ten seriously. Field hospitals are at capacity. Of the wounded, three in ten are unlikely to ever regain their fitness. This is to say nothing of their mental fitness. Those unaccounted for approach-"

Isenbruch's face disappeared behind the draped door to the tent, followed shortly by his boots. Zelda took a deep breath and let it out.

"We've won, then," said Ralis cheerfully.

"Yes," said Zelda. "We've won. But at what price?"

Ralis waved a hand dismissively. "At a cheaper price than we would have paid if we _hadn't_ stopped them here- do you think? In any case I think this action was a model action for Hylian-Zora relations. Marry me."

The deja-vu almost brought Zelda to her knees, but she was made of sterner stuff. Instead, she raised one eyebrow. "Marry you?" she asked coolly. "To what end?"

"Why," said Ralis, "to a practical one." His eyes moved eagerly over her body- the naïf thought she didn't notice. "Obviously we need each other, militarily- there are more threats out there than the bulbins. Also, you'd be a Queen and I'd be a King, like my father was, Goddesses rest his bones. It's a coup, politically." It sounded rehearsed.

Zelda didn't care much about Ralis' adolescent lechery. She didn't care that his offer had obviously been pounded into his head by his cabinet, his ministers, his- who knew?- tutors. What she cared about was extracting maximum benefit to herself out of what she could only think of as the arrangement.

"There is an issue," she pointed out, "of succession. My court anatomists tell me that we're incompatible, biologically speaking. Not that either of us would want a single heir sitting on both the Hylian and Zora thrones."

"Heaven forfend," Ralis assured her. "But as for me, I'm planning on taking concubines- you can't go wrong." He rubbed his hands together nervously. "If you didn't want to do the same you could adopt. The fact that it's _you_ doing it makes it legitimate." And this, too, sounded rehearsed. But that was all right with Zelda, who had never done anything in her life without preparation.

"Ralis," she said, "Your offer is a reasonable one, and what's more it's the best thing for Hyrule. I-"

"Clear the way, villains, clear the way!"

It wasn't Ralis.

Link burst into the campaigning tent, trailing guards behind him, and fell to one knee before Zelda. "My princess," he barked, "the war is over." And he put what he had been carrying on the table.

Zelda took one look at it and whipped her head up. "Guards!" she snapped. "Remove yourselves. Ralis, please look after your troops. Link and I have business to discuss."

Ralis narrowed his eyes petulantly. "I want to stay-"

"Get out!" said Zelda. It hadn't been a request the first time, either, but this time the difference was more apparent. Grumbling, Ralis hoisted himself out of his stool and left by the back door.

Link and Zelda were alone with Malgrim the Invincible. His coal-red eyes sat sullenly in his piggish face and his jaw opened slightly, the better to show off his jagged, yellowed teeth. A limpid pool of the warlord's blood was slowly growing where the stump that was left when Link had hacked his head from his shoulders rested on the map; as it spread it erased mountains, towns, and legends, drowning them under the sea incarnadine.

Zelda curled her hand under her chin. "This is-" she began.

"The head," confirmed Link, "of the warlord, the goddesses rest his soul. As for his body, it lies in the hills to the west of the battlefield. No doubt his men will have removed it as they passed through. Or not. It's hard to say with bulbins."

"You've done your country a great service, Link," said Zelda mildly. "Neither Hyrule or myself will forget-"

"And what _things_ he said to me, as he lay dying, princess," said Link, narrowing his eyes. "Strange things."

Something in Zelda snapped quietly. "He would have said anything to escape death," she said.

"You have no idea," replied Link, "how funny what you just said was." A noise was intruding; someone was at the flap of the tent. Zelda raised her eyebrows.

"Commander Barbarossa," she said over Link's shoulder. "My condolences on the fate of your unit."

Link turned around, half-expecting Zelda to stab him in the back, and it really was Barbarossa, with a bandage over his eye and about half of his armor intact. "Majesty," snapped the commander, and shot her a formal salute.

"Barbarossa," said Link, as friendly as he ever got. "I'm glad to see you alive. I was just about to tell Zelda an interesting story."

"I like stories," said Barbarossa, straight-faced. "What's it about?"

Link turned back to Zelda. "It's about a Hylian expeditionary force in uniform," he said, "mounting a secret and unprovoked attack on bulbin camps in the western mountains. I never could figure why the warlord thought he could mount an invasion without dealing with me first. Explains a lot, doesn't it, if it was never an invasion at all. How many dead on that field, Zelda?" He waited for an answer. Zelda smiled politely and said nothing. "I'm going to guess more than half," he went on, "and if anyone were to ask me why they died, why, I'd tell them that you killed them all yourself."

Zelda dropped the smile. "I did what I had to, Link," she said. "As always. I did what Hyrule needed me to do. Perhaps someday you'll understand the meaning-"

"Shut it," said Link harshly. "I know something about duty and I know when someone's using it as an excuse, so I have one more question to ask of you, Zelda, and you _think_ before you answer it. Was this planned?"

Silence. Link ground his teeth.

"Was this planned? Was I cleaning up after the mess you made of things or did you know this was going to happen? How far does it go, Zelda?"

He was suddenly, unrestrainedly, furious. "How far down does it go, you callous _bitch_? _Was this planned_?"

"Of _course_ it was planned," shouted Zelda, and Link's sword was in his hand before he had time to think about it and halfway to Zelda's throat before he realized that someone else's sword was at his. Mexican standoff.

"A lot of good men died, today," remarked Link. "I would hate to be responsible for the death of one more good man."

"I'm honored that you think so highly of me," said Barbarossa.

"How many of the men that went to war with you came back?" asked Link.

"Five," said Barbarossa. "I lost three during the retreat. Nothing I could have done to save them but it still feels like a knife in the gut. You were right, Link. We were dead men walking. Put down your sword."

"It's her fault," said Link. "All of it, her fault. Every death, every pint of blood spilled. Hers. Because she needed an excuse. All I ask is the chance to kill the one person who deserved to die today. All I ask is the chance to make things right."

"Perhaps," said Barbarossa. "but I'm a soldier, and Zelda remains my princess. Put down your sword. I can't ask you again, Link."

Link hesitated. Barbarossa held his breath.

Then, Link sheathed his sword, and Barbarossa let it out.

"Zelda," said Link. "One more question."

The princess looked down on him in cool disdain. "You're in no position to demand anything, Link. Least of all from me."

"Who was supposed to die today? The warlord or me?"

"I will never tell you," said Zelda.

"Tell _him_," said Link, and walked out. After a short hesitation Barbarossa saluted and followed him.

Zelda let out a breath- and froze. Someone was in the room with her. She whirled and looked into the emerald-green eyes of Ralis.

"My forces are going home," he began, and Zelda turned away. Ralis went right on talking behind her.

"Zora fared poorly on the battlefield," he said. "Half my men are dead- please instruct the burial detail that _we_ will attend to their final rest. Maybe this isn't the victory I thought it was."

Zelda said nothing. She did not ask how long Ralis had been listening. She did not try to change the subject.

"That's an interesting story of Link's," said Ralis, and the hate in his voice was all the colder for the knowledge that it was directed at _her_.

Zelda gazed into the dull eyes of the warlord and imagined that, somewhere else, he was laughing at her.


	8. Achilles

Here is Chapter Seven, with only one chapter left before Cincinnatus is over. Prophecy is already in the works- the prologue is being beta-read over at my other forum.

But that's neither here nor there. Read!

Chapter Seven

Achilles

Hot glass shatters in cold water; a dropped wineglass bursts when it meets the floor. It is always a mistake to move too hastily from one extreme to another. We are all of us in motion between opposing states.

Link sent Epona on alone and walked back to Ordon under his own power. It took him three days.

By and large they were quiet days. He and Midna communicated only when neccesary. From time to time he would carry her in his arms, a slight indignity which Midna bore patiently, for the most part.

Once, on the afternoon of the second day, she snapped at him- she hadn't meant to, but he had caught her up unexpectedly from the air, and she was on edge- they both were, after the warlord- and she had told him, rather more curtly than was necessary, to put her down, and what precisely did he think he was playing at? Link had said nothing, had set her down gently and moved on along his road. His face was a mask, but then again it always had been.

The next few hours were passed in silence. Then, regretfully, Midna said "Maybe you could carry me a little further."

"I didn't mean to upset you-" began Link. Midna shook her head and he smiled lamely.

"It's almost nostalgic," said the imp, "except that you aren't flea-ridden. Or smelly. Well, you aren't flea-ridden, at least." Link had shrugged helplessly at that and picked her up again.

It was a concession, and Midna didn't hold with them, as a rule. But perhaps it meant something to him.

They slept beneath the stars, and feared no foe- there were no more bulbins left in Hyrule. Link's dreams, when he dreamed, were mute. He learned to savor the early-morning moments of forgetfulness that waking brought. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the face of the warlord when he had lost his sword. "Strike first!" the ghost of Malgrim whispered in his ear, and Link shook his head and burned the toast. Midna said never mind and ate it anyway.

* * *

Helen

The rain came down in sheets in Castle Town, lashing the broad steps that led to Zelda's palace and soaking the men and women who packed them, elbow to elbow and hip to hip to hear what their princess had to say in the aftermath of the battle. In the back ranks, the beggars and porters jostled and swore at each other and shoved at the margins of the crowd. A scruffy musician insinuated himself into the heart of the storm and tugged at a soldier's sleeve. "'ere, friend," he wheedled, "got a light? For me pipe?"

"No," said Barbarossa. At the top of the steps, a cacophanous burst of fanfare rang out. Zelda was coming.

Her carriage pulled into view pulled by a train of six black horses and it seemed to those gathered there that the rain drew back, too cowed to dampen all that sable bunting; by the time the door to the carriage was swung open by a palace guard no more than a light drizzle sieved down from the heavens. As Zelda's royal foot touched the rude cobbles the sun came out from behind a cloud.

_Perfect_, thought the princess, and turned to face her people. The slightest of breezes tugged at her dress and was gone.

"My friends," said Zelda, "the war is over and men are once more the unchallenged masters of Hyrule." A cheer rippled through the crowd and Zelda held up one elegant gloved hand for silence.

"We must never forget the names of those who did not come back from the field of battle," she said quietly- the saint as princess, the holy queen. "The bones of the fallen lie in the rich earth of the land for which they bore so great a love as to lay down their lives to keep it whole and free. Who among us can redeem their sacrifice? Who among us can fail to envy the purity of their devotion?"

The crowd was rapt, fascinated; Zelda had them where she wanted them. She bowed her head for a moment to show that she was much too moved to speak. Then, "I have caused a statue to be built in the heart of the city, to remember the sorrow we feel on this day- a shining cenotaph for the triumphant dead. And we will drape it in armor and mail, and we will put a sharpened sword in its hand, and a flame burning at its feet to honor those who are lost. What less can we do for the armies of Hyrule, that shake the earth with their footfalls when they march off to war?"

"My people," said Zelda, above the loudening whispers of the crowd, "for as long as the line of king has governed our green land we have revered the legends of the heroes- the noble knights and dread warriors who protected the sacred Triforce from ancient evil and unquenchable ambition. We revere the names our fathers taught us. But today, I ask you to give your worship to not one hero, but many- to the men who have delivered us through the night and stood valiant in the face of barbarism and savagery!"

They cheered, and pumped their fists in the air, and sang hosannas to the princess' name; they were hers, her people, and she would shape them into whatever she needed them to be. "I have no wish in all the world so great as this," cried Zelda, "that I were born a man, with a man's strength and a man's ambitions, that I could serve my people- not as princess but as general! Not as your queen but as your defender! Oh, that I were a man, so that I could be a soldier and fight for Hyrule! Here are your heroes, my people! Long live Hyrule and long live her armies!"

"_Long live the Queen!_" screamed the crowds, and Zelda disappeared into the quiet darkness of her coach amidst the exultations of her people.

"Nice speech."

Zelda did not bother to look up as her valet lit the lamps. "The first rule of governance, beloved," she said dismissively, "give the people something to be proud of and they'll follow you to the gates of Hell."

Ralis yawned and fell back on his cushioned seat. "I thought," he replied, "that the first rule of governance was that a ruler's highest duty was to serve the people. Seeing how you do things here in Hyrule has been an education, I'll say that much."

"And yet you're still marrying me," answered Zelda.

"Marrying you serves my people well," said Ralis darkly. "When we're married maybe you'll tell me what the hell you're thinking about when you do the things you do. Starting a war with the bulbins, on the other hand-"

Zelda was shaking her head. "You and Link," she marvelled aloud, "so alike. So determined to cast me as the villain. Everything I did I did for them."

Ralis stared at her. "You did it to kill the warlord- or was it Link?" Zelda rolled her eyes at him.

"I didn't tell him," she said. "Did you think that I would tell you? In any event it doesn't matter. To tell the truth it would barely have mattered if we had lost. I got what I needed."

"And what was that?"

"Has it occurred to you, Ralis, that throughout history Hyrule has spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for a hero?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Well, it's occurred to me. I have Link to thank for that, actually- the day he rejected my offer he told me exactly what he thought of the way I had been running the kingdom." Zelda laughed softly. "He told me- not in so many words- that the entire crisis had been my fault. That lives could have been saved if I had acted faster. If I had seen the signs. It wasn't until later, when I had calmed down, that I realized that he was entirely correct."

"Why didn't you, then?" grumbled Ralis, bored.

"Because I was waiting for the Hero to come and save us," said Zelda. "Just like the army was waiting. Just like all of Hyrule was waiting and is waiting and has been waiting ever since my ancestors laid the foundations of this castle, which might I add has been destroyed either partially or entirely three times in recorded history while my people sat idly by and placed bets on how tall he was going to be and how long his _sword_ was."

"He came, though," pointed out Ralis. "Link did. I don't like what he's turned into but he did the job in those days. Defeated the twilight and all that. Killed Ganondorf. I owe him my life. It's not as if he didn't do a good job."

"Link is an anachronism," said Zelda coldly. "The last gasp of an outdated paradigm. I'm not saying that he wasn't of assistance, but his utility to me has run out. Without saying whether or not it was my intention I will tell you that it would have served my purposes just as well if it were Link lying dead on the battlefield. Hyrule needs no heroes."

"Then what does Hyrule need?"

"Hyrule," said Zelda, "needs modernizing. It needs a functioning army like the one I'm going to build, and a working government like the one I'm going to put together, and above all it needs unity- no more little tribal villages with their own laws and their own chiefs. Let the word go out that from this day forward Hyrule will be one nation united by the sacred power of its princess, and the next time darkness threatens this country it will not be one man standing defiant and alone against it but a thousand men at arms. That's what Hyrule needs. It doesn't need Link."

"There's no place for him, then?" asked Ralis sadly. "Even on the outskirts somewhere, where he can't do any harm? There's no room in Hyrule for someone who's done you a good turn?"

Zelda laughed, a high silver note in the stuffy air of the carriage. "Poor Ralis," she said, "Don't you see it? What I'm giving Link is the precise thing he would ask of me, had he only the words."

"And what," asked Ralis, "is that?"

"An antidote to heroes."

* * *

Hector

Once, the armies of the warlord had been a line of warriors that spanned horizons. They had been a thousand strong when they had come down out of the mountains, sounding their horns and wiping their knives on their thighs. Once, the armies of the warlord had been on the very brink of conquest, a terrible machine that had gathered enough momentum as to be effectively unstoppable. Once, the armies of the warlord had come within fifty miles of Castle Town and their victory over the forces of Hyrule had seemed all but inevitable.

Now, the rags and tatters of Malgrim's army were struggling west, harried by Hylian calvary and hindered by the neccessity of the wounded and their own starvation- lacking the time to hunt, they ate the leather from their boots and the shoddily-butchered meat of such boars as were left to them. When they couldn't walk anymore they collapsed in their tracks and were left behind to the uncertain mercies of the princess's harriers.

But even in their extremity, they carried _his_ body. Headless and bloody, they carried it, armed and armored; they carried it when the flies found it and when the rot set in. Bulbins knew what Midna had known and what Zelda knew still: they knew about duty.

He had been the strongest. He had been _their_ strongest. And they would bury him in the mountains.

The warlord's woman met them at the base of the foothills. Her broad emerald face betrayed no surprise at the sorry state of her husband's army or at their early return- she had known what was waiting for Malgrim in the grasslands.

Alone and unarmed, she walked among the remains of the horde. They turned their faces away as she passed, ashamed. But the warlord's woman paid them no heed. She walked until she found the litter, nothing more than the boughs of the trees they had passed along the way hacked free and lashed together. The blanket over it shrouded a shape that was familiar to her.

Her husband's lieutaintants stood about the litter, one to a corner. "Show me," she said to them in Bulbin, but they would not; they turned away, sullen in their grief. So she pulled back the blanket herself.

Malgrim's body was a horror, caked with blood where the sword had gone into him and little more than a withered stump where the Ordonian bastard had taken his head- if she ever met him there would be blood spilled between them. His armor was the old familiar breastplate her father had given him on their wedding day. Now that the worms were done with him, there was little else familiar to be found.

She took his lifeless hand, felt the bones shift gently under the grimy skin. "Hard times coming," she said, and nobody present offered her any contradiction.


	9. Cincinnatus Reprise

Chapter Seven

Cincinnatus (Reprise)

It was twilight when they emerged from the woods outside of Link's house, tired to their bones and longing for the comforts you couldn't find in the open range. Epona nickered from somewhere in the gathering dust, and Link breathed deep of the fertile, slightly musty air of Ordon: home.

Someone, probably Colin, had attended to his horse- the goddesses only knew what the Ordonians had thought when Epona came back without him. Tomorrow he would tell them as much of the warlord's story as they needed to know, which was not, to Link's mind, a great deal. Let them go on believing that catastrophe had been averted. Let them go on believing that Zelda was a saint and Link was a hero and the margin between the two worlds was a thin dark line with good on one side and evil on the other. They would be happier if they didn't know.

But someone was coming up the path from the town proper. Quick as a last breath, Link drew back into the deeper darkness of the clearing's edge and drew his sword without the slightest rasp of steel.

"What are you _doing_," hissed Midna, but Link paid her no mind. He adjusted his grip on the Master Sword and waited in the shadows.

For a moment what came out from between the posts of the gate that never did shut properly was a bulbin archer that Link had killed, dragging a mangled leg behind it, a quiver of barbed arrows slung over the hunch of its shoulders and arms full of murder. Then it was only Colin with a lantern.

"Link?" he called out into the darkness. "Is that… is that you?"

And because there was nothing for it, Link stepped out of the shadows and into the watery membrane of light. "Here I am," he said.

Colin blinked. "Link! I'm glad you're back… er, what were you doing in the dark?"

"Actually," said Link reflectively, "that's a good question. How's your sword drill?"

"Well, fine," said Colin. "Fine. My dad's been giving me a few pointers. So… we won, did we?"

Link realized he was still holding his sword and fumbled it back into his scabbard with a muttered curse. "I suppose we did, at that," he said as the blade slid home. "He's dead, anyways. I didn't want to do it," he added. Colin gave him a strange look.

"But he was a bulbin," he pointed out.

"You know, Colin," said Link wearily, "I really do think that it's going to be you."

"That _what's_ going to be me?" asked Colin. Link shook his head.

"You go back home, Colin," he said. "I'll tell you about it in the morning. You just go back home, that's all." Colin hesitated and nodded curtly.

"It wasn't his fault," said Link. "I know you don't understand but I think you will, someday. It wasn't his fault."

"Yeah," said Colin. "Well, I ought to be getting home."

"Go in peace," said Link. "Listen, forget about it. It wasn't important."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," said Colin, backing away.

"Tomorrow," he replied, and turned to climb the ladder. He didn't look back but he could feel Colin's eyes hot on him for a moment before the lad went away and took his lantern with him, leaving Link in the dark again.

"You're no fun when you brood, you know," complained Midna from his shadow. Link shook his head.

"I'm not brooding," he said, and pushed open the door.

The air inside his house tasted stale to him. After three days in the open, any house, even your own, is alien- something about the idea of four walls and a roof above you seems impossibly radical. For a moment, Link's scant possessions- the pictures on his walls and the rug under his feet- felt like they belonged to someone else.

It wasn't much warmer inside the house than it was outside it. Link crossed to the oven to get a fire started, conscious of Midna in the air behind him.

"If you're still upset about the warlord, don't be-" she began.

"Oh, to hell with the warlord," Link returned crossly. "Maybe it wasn't his fault, but he was right. I would have come after him anyways. If there's blood on my hands- and there is- then most of it is there because he knocked me out that day in the spring and went his way without finishing the job. Why should it trouble me now, that I had no care of a week ago? Anyways, he shouldn't have come back."

Midna scowled at him. "I _know_ something is wrong. Is it Zelda?"

"I always knew she'd turn on me someday."

"Barbarossa? He put a sword to your throat. I could have stopped him-"

"Barbarossa was doing his duty. I have no quarrel with him."

"Then who-"

"It's _me_, Midna," said Link dully. "It's me and it always has been. What I did to the body-"

He swallowed. "-I would not have done that, a year ago. The thought of it would have been… I don't like what it's turned me into, Midna. All those months of fighting monsters and where do you draw the line? He was never half the monster Zant was, and even Zant was- sad. Do you know what I'm most afraid of?"

"What is it, Link?" asked Midna quietly. Link's fingers caressed the pommel of his sword with an unthinking lechery.

"I'm afraid-" he said, and stopped, and flinched his hand away from the blade as if it burned him. With a cry of anger he tore off his sword belt and flung it into a corner. Link sat heavily down on the edge of his pallet, breathing hard.

Midna lit on the ground beside him, and touched his face with one star-shaped hand. "Link," she murmured. "Oh, Link."

"I shouted at Barbarossa when he said he was coming with me," he said dully. "If I had had a sword in my hand when I saw Ralis I would have cut his heart out for for what he did- what he tried to do. I probably scared the hell out of Colin just now. Do you know what I'm most afraid of? –have I already asked you that?"

"Yes," said Midna. "and I think I know what it is, but you have to say it."

Link closed his eyes. "I'm afraid that this is what Ganondorf was like, when he was just setting out. I'm afraid that he had good intentions too. I'm afraid- I don't think there's anyone left who could stand in my way. I wish like hell that he would have let me let him live."

Midna was quiet for a moment. "But there's someone you haven't thought of yet," she said.

"Who?" asked Link, five fathoms down and beyond caring about the answer.

"_Me_," said Midna, and Link's head shot up. "It's _me_, you big dummy, do you think I wouldn't try and stop you? You're always underestimating me, Link. It's not nice."

She swatted him gently. "I'll always be with you, Link. And I'll be there to stop you if that's what you need me to do for you. But it's never going to come to that."

_I could beat you_- whispered something in Link's mind, and he rebelled against the horror. But even as his conscious mind struggled against the grim reality of his competence, he realized that Midna had given him the answer.

Could he betray Hyrule, if it was the right thing to do? What a question! Of course he could. Of course he could. If the darkness came on him, could he betray Zelda? Yes- as cruelly as Zelda had betrayed him. How far was he prepared to go? Could he betray Barnes? Barbarossa? Link knew that it was so. He knew something of the corruption of the world, the stain that spreads. Colin? There was no question. Renado? Telma? All that he loved could be swept away in an instant if he turned away from the path the goddesses had set out for him. The best of intentions come back to bite you in the body of a wolf. Link knew what lay that way- Zelda, sending out her army to die in the fields and hills so she could rid herself of a hypothetical obstacle. Zant, terrible and mad, blotting out the sunlit world that he might redress a centuries-old wrong, and both of them so convinced of the righteousness of their actions that the consequences didn't matter anymore.

That way lay the warlord, riding out from the desert with his host of bulbins hissing and boiling around him so that he could avenge the murder of his children.

That way lay Ganondorf, and who knew what Ganondorf had been fighting for when he had reached out his hand to grasp the sacred Triforce?

But could he betray Midna? Link asked himself the question and found that the answer was no. No, not for all the rupees in all the chests in all of Hyrule. Not for the sake of any friend or the vanquish of any enemy. Not for Colin or Barbarossa or Zelda or any of them or all of them. Not for all the world- the whole of it, shimmering and lovely, to hold in the palm of his hand.

How could he ever sink so low? The answer, clean and white and radiant with salvation: he couldn't. With the nations of the world arrayed in arms against him, with the goddesses in their heaven standing with their backs turned on him, Link would walk of his own free will into the darkness rather than betray her. He was free.

With a sudden groundswell of emotion he swept her into his arms and embraced her fiercely. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you."

Midna squirmed free. "Of course you do, dummy," she said fiercely. "You're mine." She kissed him on the lips and they fell into Link's narrow bed together with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands pressed against her back.

And when Link was asleep, he heard voices chanting, raised in otherworldly chorus above the ambient noises of his dream- as if they had always been there, as if they had never left.

* * *

And Cincinnatus is finally over.

Thanks to everyone who read it and commented on it- you've been a great audience. Special thanks to Chaotic Serenity for all the incredible feedback, Titanium Phoenix for helping me figure out exactly why I named that segment 'Helen', and Nocturne del Shadow for relentless attention to characterization- you may have been right on a few of those, Nocturne. Pity I'm so stubborn.

I have heard the most persistent notes of criticism and some of them I've given serious thought to. Without giving too much away, let me tell you that I'll be incorporating some changes into the next arc.  


Prophecy is coming.

-Schildkrote


End file.
